And Kiss, And Kiss
by KingdomKey1121
Summary: After a long time of coming to terms with their blossoming feelings for one another, Elsa and Anna finally share their first kiss. Unfortunately, the night only ends in tragedy and turns their lives upside down. This one-shot explores the before and after of the traumatic event that will shape both of their futures forever. Elsanna. Modern AU.


_This AU is based entirely on a play called _Stop Kiss_ by Diana Son which is more lovely and heartbreaking that I could even describe to you. I recommend reading it, for it's 1,000 times better than this. Anyway, I read it for the first time this weekend and desperately thought that it needed an Elsanna makeover, so here it is. The story is all Diana Son's and the characters are all Disney's. And for context, the girls trade POV every break._

**TRIGGER WARNINGS: ASSAULT, VIOLENCE**

* * *

><p>I can hear a muffled voice behind the door, but I knock anyway. Olaf's pet carrier is under my arm and I'm trying to catch my breath from the three flights of stairs I had to climb to get to the apartment. That same voice tosses a "be right there!" at me and I hear hurried footsteps and thumps.<p>

The door opens and I step inside.

"You're Elsa," I say, and the blonde nods - she's holding a phone in her hand, which explains the talking. I notice that she's taller than me, and more beautiful, but who's keeping track? "I'm Anna, this is Olaf, and I am so thankful that you're doing this for me."

Elsa closes the door behind me as I step further inside her apartment, gawking at its size.

"Um, you can have a seat," Elsa says, indicating a couch that looked so new and unused I assume it had been taken out of its wrapping moments before I knocked. I sit tenderly on the piece of furniture, expecting an alarm to go off if I touch it the wrong way. I set Olaf's carrier on the floor beside me.

"Your apartment is so big!" I say. "Well, mine is just as big, but I have two roommates."

Elsa switches on a lamp, flicks off the overhead fixture, and comes to sit across the couch from me and Olaf.

"This is so nice of you, I was so afraid I woudn't find a suitable home for him," I say, opening the carrier and carefully extracting the excitable white cat.

"Don't even mention it, I was thinking of getting a cat anyway."

I hand him over. He squirms mercilessly until Elsa has him in her lap. He gives her one sniff and then perches himself contentedly down on her thighs.

"Well, that's a relief," I say, watching Elsa's slender fingers run themselves down the soft fur on Olaf's back. He starts purring. "I have a feeling he's going to like it here."

"Yes, I hope so," she says, chuckling. "How are you liking New York so far?"

"Oh, I love it!" I say, a little too loudly, startling Olaf. He jumps down to the floor and begins to investigate his new home.

"What brought you here?" Elsa asks, folding her now-free hands into her lap.

"I'm a third-grade teacher. I won a fellowship to move here and teach at P.S. 32. In the Bronx." I say the last bit a little self-consciously. Everyone else I've told has given me a look of pity and semi-horror. Elsa thankfully does neither, only nods and hums thoughtfully.

"What do you do?" I ask politely.

"Oh, I work for a local network," she says, waving her hand to indicate its unimportance.

"Weather girl?"

"No, no, I report on traffic. You know, the whole 'eastbound's full, northbound's full, you can't get anywhere so why even bother' spiel. I get to ride in a helicopter, though."

"That's very cool!" I say and then we fall into a silence. I look around, searching for Olaf. He is nowhere to be found.

"How long have you lived in this apartment?" I say, because I still can't get over how big and pristine it is.

"About five years, but two by myself. It's actually my ex's, but when he moved out and started dating my cousin, he just gave it to me. Maybe out of pity."

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry. That was a really personal question. You didn't have to tell me any of that. But I'm flattered that you trust me with your deepest, darkest secrets."

"They're hardly secrets," says Elsa, chuckling again. "I don't mind."

Suddenly, I hear a rhythmic thumping from above our heads.

"What is that?" I say, slightly startled by the sudden noise.

"What is what?"

"_That_." I point at the ceiling and cringe at an especially loud clump.

"Oh, that," says Elsa, sighing. "Every Thursday at exactly six and for exactly one hour, the floor above me is _tattooed_. I try to leave when it happens because it can be quite distracting."

"You shouldn't have to be chased from your own apartment. Have you tried talking to them?"

"No, I don't really like confrontation."

"Do you want me to talk to them?"

She looks at me, puzzled, and I stare back, completely serious. "Oh, no, that's not ness-"

"Because I will."

"No, Anna," says Elsa firmly. "It's really okay."

Elsa's phone buzzes and she holds up the screen, her face lit with blue. "I _told_ them I was going to be late…"

"Oh! Did you need to be somewhere? Don't let me hold you up!" I say, rising from the cold leather beneath me.

"No, you're fine. I see them every day, they can wait a few minutes for me."

"I don't want to be rude though!" I start for the front door.

It is now that Olaf chooses to show himself again. As he passes by me for the open door to the kitchen I scoop him into my arms.

"Goodbye, my little Prince," I say, in between kisses to his face that he stretches to be out of reach of. "I will miss you!"

"You can come visit him whenever you want." Elsa comes to stand nearby, arms crossed protectively over her stomach.

"That would be lovely," I say, setting Olaf back down. He sprints off, already at home in his new owner's apartment.

"I would invite you out with my friends-" Elsa starts awkwardly.

I wave my hands hurriedly. "Oh, no, you don't have to do that. They are your friends, and we only just met-"

"Well, what are you doing this weekend?"

"Unpacking. But then nothing. What do New Yorkers do, anyway?"

"Eat," says Elsa, and we both chuckle. "What do you like?"

"Anything but sushi. Can't stand it."

"My cousin works for a sushi place."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"I hate my cousin."

I pause, confused. Then I realize. "The cousin that ran off with your boyfriend?"

"That's that one."

"I hate your cousin, too," I say.

Elsa gives a surprised smile and we hold eye contact for a moment longer than is altogether polite.

* * *

><p>"You're going to need to tell me, everything. Elsa, right?"<p>

I nod. I am sitting on an examination table, still clutching the papery hospital gown closed at the front. It is cold; I am shivering. The doctor has gone and left me alone with the detective. And she does not care that I am cold.

"The assault happened at about 4 A.M., is that correct?"

I nod again.

"You're going to need to talk to me, Elsa. This is a back and forth that's going to help you."

"But who's going to help Anna?" My voice trembles. I haven't used it all morning and it is raw from the screaming.

"She is in stable condition. I need to know what happened and only you can tell me. You were in an alley off of 33rd. Where had you come from?"

I swallow, and it hurts. "Uh… we had been out at a bar." I notice, too, that my lips are swollen and cracked.

"What bar?"

"I'm not sure, we had been bar-hopping a bit."

"Which ones?"

"Uhh…" I shook my head, buying myself time. "The White Woods? Yeah, I think that was the last one."

"And you were out until closing time?"

I nod. The detective shoots me a look so I correct my answer. "Yes, I think so."

"Were you drunk?"

"No."

The detective scribbles something down. I try to swallow again; it still hurts.

"What were you doing down that alley?"

"Just talking. It was a shortcut."

"So this man came up to you, and what? Catcalled you?"

"Yeah. Yeah he was saying some shit and Anna told him to fuck off."

"And he pummeled her into a coma?"

I flinch, which irritates my cracked rib. My hand comes up to hold it, waiting for the pain to subside.

"Yes," I manage.

"What did you do?"

"I tried to hold his arms but he was too strong. He punched me."

"What did he look like?"

"I don't know, it was dark."

"I need something, anything. What was he wearing?"

"I think… jeans and a leather jacket."

"Think you can come with me and look at some pictures?"

"I… I can't leave."

"Have you been checked out? Did the doctor okay you?"

"Yes…"

"Then, come."

"Can you bring them here?"

"No, I need to take you there."

"But… but… what if… what if Anna wakes up?"

* * *

><p>I knock on the door. I am very used to this by now; It has become almost a daily norm. After school I head over to Elsa's apartment and we talk and drink and eat almost all night (or until six on Thursdays). I wait for the usual "come in!" but instead the door opens for me. But it is not Elsa at the door, it is a man. He towers above me, a whole head taller. He is built hardy, like a farmer or football player. He cocks an eyebrow at me.<p>

Then Elsa is there, pushing the man out of the way. "Hi Anna!"

"Hey!" I say, pulling her into a hug. When we break apart I hand her the bouquet of roses I had brought. "For you."

"Oh, you didn't have to do that!" Elsa says, but takes them and immediately crosses to the kitchen.

"Yes I did, you're taking me out for dinner!"

"She is?" asks the man, who is now leaning against the closed front door, arms crossed. "Elsa, what is this about dinner? You never treat me to dinner."

Elsa re-enters, the roses now sitting in a vase. She sets them on the end table next to the couch. "That's because she's new to the city and needs an expert to show her good places to dine. Anna, this is Kristoff."

"Ah, Kristoff! I've heard so much about you!" I say, reaching out and shaking his hand.

"I wish I could say the same of you…" Kristoff says, glaring over at Elsa. She shrugs and rolls her eyes.

"I gave Elsa my cat," I say.

"Oh, you're the infamous cat lady!" says Kristoff, clapping a hand to his forehead. "How could I have forgotten."

"All right Kristoff, we have reservations, so if you'll just-" Elsa starts but is interrupted.

"And I'm not invited? You won't invite your best friend?" says Kristoff, feigning hurt. "Where are you guys going anyway? You're all dressed up."

Both Elsa and I look down at ourselves, then appraise each other. I giggle and say, "I have no idea where we're going, I was just following instructions."

"We're going to Marcell's," says Elsa. I am still in the dark but Kristoff' eyes get wide in acknowledgment.

"Ever been?" I ask Kristoff, trying to keep him politely included in the conversation.

"No, too expensive," he replies, staring down Elsa, who has become suddenly very interested in her nails.

"I'll let you know how it is, and I'll make it up to you. Promise. Now will you please go?" says Elsa, escorting the man to the door.

"Can I walk you out?" he says, figuratively digging in his heels.

"We're not leaving yet," says Elsa, opening the door. "I'll call you tomorrow. I _promise_."

"All right, all right. I can tell when I'm not welcome."

"It's not personal, we're just having a girl's night. Now goodbye."

And the door is shut in Kristoff's face.

"Well," I say. "He seems charming."

"He is," says Elsa. "He's great."

I bend over to pick up Olaf from the floor, deciding suddenly to throw caution to the winds and ask: "Did you two date?"

Elsa visibly tenses up. "What? No. Well… Not technically. We, uh… we do sleep together. On occasion. We're really good friends, though."

"With benefits."

"Right."

I pet Olaf thoughtfully. "He reminds me of my ex, Hans."

"Oh? What happened?"

"I moved here."

"Oh…" says Elsa, fidgeting with her dress. "Is he still…?"

"Yes. But I couldn't bring baggage with me. I wanted a fresh start. He understands, I think."

"New place, new life."

"Yes, exactly," I say, letting Olaf back down.

Elsa nods absently, one hand resting on the back of the couch. I step over to the vase of roses and lean down to waft their aroma to my nostrils.

"Well, shall we?" asks Elsa, snapping out of her daydream and offering me her arm.

"We shall," I say, smiling widely.

* * *

><p>"I talked to the bartender at the White Woods tavern," says the detective, flipping open her file. "He says he doesn't remember seeing you two there. Do you remember the night? The bartender? Was it crowded?"<p>

"Pretty crowded, yeah," I say, chewing on my lip. A nervous habit. I rub at my tired eyes; I had tried to nap but could not sleep. I had been too worried that Anna would wake up and be alone. Her parents and her ex-boyfriend had flown in at noon. I hadn't yet met them but I dreaded it.

"And the bartender?"

"I don't know. Anna got the drinks."

"Did anyone follow you from the bar? See anyone suspicious as you walked? White Woods is a good six blocks from that alley."

"No, I don't remember seeing anyone. The guy just came out of nowhere."

"I want to ask you more about that. What exactly did he say to you two?"

"I don't know, he offered us drugs or something."

"And what did you say?"

"Nothing, Anna did."

"She provoked him?"

"No!" I half-shouted. I took a breath to calm myself and continued. "No. He was being a real asshole, talking us up."

"What was he saying exactly?"

"I don't know. He called us names."

"What kind of names?"

I shrug, which makes my rib throb in pain.

"What did he call her?" the detective presses on. "Bitch? Cunt?"

"No," I say, shaking my head. "No he-"

"Pussy-eater?"

I close my mouth and look right into the detective's eyes.

"Did he call you pussy-eaters?"

I can't make a sound, I can only breathe.

"Elsa? You need to work with me, here."

"Yes. He called us- he said- 'fucking dykes!'"

There is a pause after I say this, the words echo around the conference room. The detective shuts her file as though this admission solved the whole case.

"What would make him say that?" the detective finally asks. "What were you doing in that alley, Elsa?"

And finally the pressure valve on my nerves breaks and I can't help it, I can't stop the words from gushing forth.

"Kissing! We were kissing. It was the first-first time- And, and he came up to us, asking us if we'd come back to his place, give us $100 apiece if he could watch. If he could film us doing 'what we did'. That's when Anna told him to fuck off. We started walking away, but he wasn't having that 'kind of mouth'- that's what he said. I was holding onto her forearm but he ripped her away from me. He took - he - her head - he bashed it against the building - over, and over, and over-"

By now I am sobbing so hard I can barely speak coherently. But now that I have started, I can't stop. I can't stop.

"I took out my phone and tried to call the cops but he hit it out of my hand so I screamed and screamed for someone else to call 911. I tried to hold his arms, but he was much bigger and stronger. He just turned and punched me, right in the gut. And I puked - right on him. It was enough for Anna to start - to try and get away but he caught her again and started - he took her head again and - he brought it to his knee again and again. I couldn't move, I couldn't stop him… and then I heard someone yell that the police were coming and he ran. Anna didn't move. And I couldn't move."

I take a deep, shuddering breath.

"That's what happened."

* * *

><p>"Four of a kind, I win again," I say, triumphantly, fanning out my hand of cards on the coffee table.<p>

"Damn it," says Elsa, throwing down her own hand in defeat.

"It's a good thing we're not playing for money, because by now I would own your whole apartment, and maybe your life."

"Yeah, yeah," says Elsa, getting up and collecting the dirty dishes that had accumulated around our playing space. I was sprawled on the leather couch that was finally showing some wear (thanks to me) and Elsa had been sitting cross-legged on the other side of the coffee table - the better to pet Olaf.

She returns, a blanket slung over her shoulders, hanging like a cape. "But… plot twist. I was letting you win."

Elsa turns over her discarded hand one by one to reveal a royal flush.

"What? That is so unfair," I say slumping further down into the couch. "And here I was thinking I had learned something after all these years. Plus my third graders can hardly play a game of poker with their teacher. I think it's sort of frowned upon."

Elsa laughs. "What about a game of chess? Or is it too late?"

"What time is it, even?" I say, pulling out my phone from a crevice of the couch. I glance at the time and sigh. "It's almost two, I should probably get home. We've never been up _this_ late before, how did that happen?"

"No idea," says Elsa as she clears the table of cards. "How are you getting home?"

I stretch, sitting up on the couch. "I can take the train, right?"

"I'd rather you didn't. It gets really shady after midnight."

"Well, I'm not taking a cab. Too expensive."

"But much safer. I can pay for the fare."

"You already bought me dinner last week. It'll be fine. I suppose I could walk, but it would take me hours."

"And you could get mugged."

"So, train it is!"

"Well, you know…" Elsa starts, tentatively. I arch an eyebrow at her, urging her to continue. "I wouldn't mind if you stayed here. That couch pulls out into a bed. I've never slept on it but if it's not comfortable we can switch and you can sleep in my bed. I mean… if you wanted to."

I feel an involuntary grin light up my face. "You know, that's not a half-bad idea."

"I would feel a lot better about it," says Elsa, not looking over at me.

"Okay! Let's do it."

I work to remove the cushions as Elsa goes off to find some extra sheets. I struggle for a bit as I pull out the bed from the depths of the couch, but Elsa comes in time to help and together, we get it extracted.

"Olaf used to sleep with me. I wonder if he will again tonight. Does he sleep with you?"

Elsa is arranging the discarded cushions so that they take up less space in the room. "He does sleep with me." She enters her bedroom, her voice sounding faroff. I take off my shirt so I can change into another. "But he'll probably want to sleep with you tonight. Do you need a change of- oh! Sorry!"

I am bending over my bag, looking for my own shirt when she re-enters. "No, I have one, thanks though!" I find it and pull it over my head. I look around at Elsa and see that she has averted her eyes respectfully. I climb into my makeshift bed and settle in.

"Well," says Elsa, eyes darting around the room for anything else to clean up. "Goodnight, I guess."

"Goodnight! And thanks again!" I say. She flicks off the overhead light and the room is bathed in darkness. I snuggle down into the bedding, bringing the sheets right up to my chin. I lay there and breathe, listening to the sounds of the night outside the apartment.

Finally, I sit up and scan the room, looking for that familiar streak of white in the darkness. "Olaf? Little Prince? Where are you?"

I crane my neck to peer over the back of the couch, but I see nothing.

"Is he in there with you?" I call to the bedroom.

"No… he's not out there?" Elsa calls back.

"He's nowhere, the little devil," I say, almost mumbling.

"I don't know where he'd be," says Elsa, coming to her bedroom door as if to go on a search.

"Hey, will you do me a favor?" I say. "Will you come and lay down in this bed for a little? Maybe he'll come. Since he's been sleeping with you."

"Oh. Yeah, okay. Sure."

Elsa pads over on bare feet and gets in the other side of the bed; I can feel it give and groan under the added weight.

"Huh," says Elsa. "This bed _is _comfortable."

"I agree!" I say. "And now you know too."

"What a relief," says Elsa.

After a few moments of silence, I start kicking the sheets off of my feet, careful not to do the same on Elsa's side. I explain: "My feet get hot really easily, even in the winter."

More silence. Then I say, "Do you see him?"

"Who?" says Elsa.

"Olaf."

"Oh. No, not yet. I'm sure he'll come."

I make a noncommittal noise.

The silence stretches on. I feel the urge to hold my breath, but I take care to make sure that it is deep and even.

"Are you asleep?" Elsa whispers. I don't respond, don't hold my breath. I close my eyes. "You're not already asleep, are you?"

I continue to breathe, continue to not respond. I wait for her to get up and go back to her bedroom, but she doesn't. I feel her turn, listen as her breathing also becomes deep and even. I open my eyes and look over. She has turned toward me, her face is maybe a foot from mine. I study it in the darkness.

* * *

><p>The pounding on the door echoes the pounding in my head. I open it, not ready for the fight, wishing that it were someone else knocking, someone impossible.<p>

I open the door and step away, not acknowledging my visitor.

"Why haven't you answered my calls? My texts?" His voice is already too loud, it reverberates inside my skull, battering my already jangled nerves. I sit on the couch, the spot Anna usually occupies.

"Kristoff, I don't really feel up to this right now." A hand comes over my eyes, as if wishing to block him out.

"Do you know how I found out? The news. The news station YOU work for is covering the story: _our very own traffic reporter assaulted in alley with friend. Woman in coma. _How was I supposed to know it wasn't YOU in the coma? What the FUCK, Elsa?"

"I really don't feel good," I say, casting a weary look his way. He is still standing by the open door. "Shut that, will you? I don't want the whole building to hear."

It slams shut; the pictures and mirror that hang nearby rattle in its wake.

"Why didn't you call? I was worried sick. I came here twice this morning but you weren't here."

Of course he catches me when I stop home for a change of clothes. "I was busy with the cops and the hospital, I actually need to get back-"

"Are you hurt?" He finally relinquishes his standing power and sits beside me on the couch.

"Anna's hurt."

"What about you? Did a doctor look at you?"

"It's nothing - cracked rib. I'm not in a coma. Anna's in a coma."

"Let me see your rib."

"No. It doesn't matter. Kristoff, Anna is hurt and it's my-"

"Stop," he says, taking my shaking shoulders in his hands. I suddenly realize I am crying again. For the first time that day, I give up and lean forward to weep into his shirt. He smells like himself - like bread, flour. That scent used to make me feel safe and warm, but now I only longed for Anna's - of chocolate, of sugar.

Eventually my sobbing subsides and I slump back into the armrest, away from him. A few moments of quiet. Then-

"Do you remember our first kiss?" I say, sniffing.

"I… no. No, I don't."

"Me neither."

I look at him; his eyes are dark, his brow drawn. His mouth is in a thin line. He looks tired. Probably exactly how I look.

"There were so many times I was sitting on this couch with Anna," I say, picking at the armrest. "And all I wanted to do was kiss her. That's all I ever wanted to do. She kept pressing me - _what do you want? You need to do what you want to do. _She kept telling me over and over that I never let myself do what I want. Whether it was deciding what to have for takeout or telling the goddamn neighbors to keep it down. Then I finally showed her that I _could_ do what I wanted and look what's happened. She's lying in a fucking coma."

Kristoff takes my hand, entwining our fingers.

"It's not your fault," he says.

I look away.

* * *

><p>I shake the rain out of my umbrella as I knock on the door. I don't wait for the answering "come in!" before I burst into the apartment and immediately take a spot by the radiator to warm up.<p>

Elsa enters from her bedroom dressed in a dazzling blue gown and my face falls. I had come in dark jeans and a blouse.

"I'm underdressed," I say, watching Elsa carefully. She doesn't look over.

"And you're late. I told you to be here at 5:30," she says, going to the mirror by the door and fixing on a thin silver necklace.

"Yeah, I know, I lost track of time. I was grading."

"There's not time for us to stop by your place for you to change."

"Can't I borrow something of yours?"

"No," Elsa snaps. "You're not wearing my clothes to the awards ceremony."

"Oh," I say, offended by her tone. "Do you not want me to go?"

"I don't want you to go wearing _my c_lothes. I don't even want to go at all."

"But don't you have to? Your station is getting an award."

"My station, not me."

Her anger is getting to me and I take a breath to calm my own. "Look, I'm sorry that I'm not dressed up. You didn't make it sound very important."

"It's an _awards ceremony, _Anna."

"What's it matter? You don't even like your job."

"It's still my job and I still have to go." When I scoff openly she spins around and glares at me. "But you're not invited anymore, so you can leave."

I glare back, jaw set.

"Fine," I say, gathering up my coat and my umbrella.

Just then, above us, that damned rhythmic thumping begins, right on schedule.

"Perfect timing," Elsa says. "I'm going, I don't care what you do."

"Oh, right," I say, my anger finally getting the better of me. "Go ahead and get chased out of your own apartment again, instead of doing what you want, instead of telling them to knock it off. Just live your life revolving around every else's schedule, getting the doormat treatment. Fine."

Before she can respond I stride heavily across the room, throw open the door and march purposefully out and down the stairs, not bothering to shut the door behind me.

The whole train ride I am nothing but a fuming mess and when I get home I have a good, long scream into my pillow.

* * *

><p>"Hans?"<p>

He stands up from his seat in the waiting room. He is tall, with dark auburn hair and thick sideburns. He has a kind face and that calms me.

"You're Elsa?" he says. His eyes are clouded with exhaustion and worry.

I nod. "Are her parents…?"

"Yes, they're inside."

"How- how are they doing?"

"They're- not doing well. You can imagine. Anna's their only child."

I nod again, feeling suddenly ashamed, guilty once more.

"I don't know if she told you, but I'm her-"

"Yes, she did mention that."

"She didn't really mention you. Just that you knew a lot of good restaurants."

"Ah," I say. He sits back down and gestures for me to join him. I do, perching on the edge of my seat, ready to run at any moment.

"We want to move her back home, but the doctor says we shouldn't until she regains consciousness."

"Moving her home?" I say. Surely New York was her home now. "What if she doesn't want to go?"

"She had a really good life there," Hans says earnestly. "I'm sure after she gets out of rehab her old school will take her back. And I will be there to help her every step of the way. She's already doing so well. Her dad was talking to her earlier, urging her to do simple tasks and she… well she squeezed his hand!"

I freeze, then sit up straighter. "She did?"

"It shouldn't be too long until she wakes up, that's what the doctor says."

"And you'll take her home."

"Yes, it'll be what's best for her. Everyone back home loves her. I- well. I still love her. And I'm not going to abandon her again."

I can't help but think that it was he who had been abandoned but I say nothing. Instead, I only nod.

Suddenly, his tone changes. "Elsa, will you tell me- will you tell me what really happened?"

"You already know the story."

"I know _when_ and _where_ it happened but I don't know… why. Why Anna?"

"Trust me, I wish more than anything that it was me in there."

"Why isn't it?"

We lock eyes and I see my own pain and grief mirrored in his face. I realize that I don't have an answer.

* * *

><p>I have decided to be the bigger person and apologize in person. I pass Kristoff on my way up the stairs. His hair is bedraggled and his skin looks bright, the kind of brightness a guy gets when he's just gotten laid. I try not to let it bother me.<p>

When I knock, a "what did you forget?" is thrown at me just before the door opens. Elsa looks morbidly surprised to see me - she's wearing a T-Shirt and underwear, nothing else. I try not to notice that either.

"Oh," says Elsa. "I didn't know it was you." She's pulling self-consciously on the bottom of her shirt. "Come in, let me change really quick."

I settle into my usual spot on the couch and Olaf jumps up immediately to greet me. I pet and coddle him until Elsa reappears fully clothed.

I gesture for her to take a seat next to me on the couch. When she does, I go straight into my semi-rehearsed speech.

"Elsa, I'm here to apologize. I am so ashamed at the way I acted and how I insulted you-"

"How you told the truth?" Elsa corrects gently. She's smiling.

"I shouldn't have said it," I say. "I'm sorry that I didn't take the ceremony seriously when it was obviously very important to you. I hope I didn't spoil your evening."

"You didn't," says Elsa kindly. "And actually… I _did _end up winning an award. How weird is that?"

"You did?" I say, suddenly more excited and but also more guilty than before.

"Best Traffic Reporting. Sounds made up, doesn't it?"

"Holy shit, Elsa, that's wonderful! Did you have to go up and give a thank-you speech?"

"The whole nine yards! I felt like I had just won an Oscar."

"I wish I had been there to see it," I say sadly.

"I do too," says Elsa. She reaches forward to place a hand atop mine, both of which rest in my lap. I offer her a tender smile before she says, "Want to see it?"

"Of course I do!"

Elsa rushes into the bedroom and emerges holding a palm-sized plaque. I take a good long look at it, then I hold it up to my mouth. I breathe on it and rub it on my shirt, polishing it for her.

"It belongs somewhere it can be seen."

"No, it doesn't," contradicts Elsa, stretching to grab it. I hold it out of reach.

"This is a very important moment in your career, Elsa. This is going somewhere special."

It takes me ten minutes to decide the perfect spot and by the time I'm done, Elsa is rolling her eyes and laughing, and that's when I know I've been forgiven.

* * *

><p>Eventually Anna's parents become too distraught to be at their daughter's bedside any longer, and I take the opportunity to slip silently into the emptied room once they depart for the hospital cafeteria. I relax once the door shuts behind me and I'm away from prying eyes.<p>

Anna is resting in a bed, on her back. Her eyes are closed, her face one giant bruise. My eyes well up with wetness just looking at her. I throw a quick look at the door over my shoulder, making sure no one is going to come in. I take a moment to fold up the bottom of her blanket so that her feet are exposed - so that they don't get too hot.

Thinking about what Hans said about Anna giving her father's hand pressure, I slip my own hand into her limp one. I hesitate for a second, but then I lean close to the black and blue flesh of her face, careful not to touch her gauze-wrapped head.

"Anna," I whisper, my breath stirring a few auburn hairs near her ear. "Anna, can you hear me?" I press gently on her cold palm. "Can you feel that?"

I wait a few seconds, hoping her damaged nerves will recognize me. I try once more. "Anna, do you know who I am? It's me, Elsa…"

I let go of her hand and travel up her arm, pressing lightly up to her elbow, then back down to her hand. "Anna, did you feel any of that?"

"Anna, I don't know what else to do…" I look at the bruised cheek inches away from my own face and wish that I could kiss it.

After a few more minutes of trying to rouse her and getting no response, I sigh sadly and pull away.

When I look back into her face I find that her eyes are open. I blanch and tighten my grip on her hand.

"Oh my god," I breathe. "Hi."

* * *

><p>We enter the apartment and I immediately kick off my shoes. Olaf emerges from under the end table, eyes glinting in the darkness. Elsa flicks on the overhead light and I settle into the couch while clutching a squirming Olaf. Before she does anything else, Elsa goes over to the vintage record player in the corner and puts on the vinyl we had just bought.<p>

I let the discontent Prince jump down and instead pull out my phone to check my email. The music from the record pumps into the room, making me want to dance. Elsa comes to sit across the couch from me, unfolding this morning's newspaper.

"The first time I heard this song was at a gay club," I say, now opening a game of solitaire on my phone.

"You've been to a gay club?" Elsa asks dubiously.

"Yeah, my friends back home dragged me. It wasn't that bad, really. People there really knew how to get down."

Elsa chuckled, tucking back into her paper.

"Have you ever been to a gay club, Elsa?" I say, hoping I don't sound as interested in the answer as I really am.

"Once," she says shortly.

"Oh, do tell," I say, wriggling an eyebrow.

"Same story," she says, not looking up from the paper. "Friends dragged me."

"That's not a very good story," I say, trying not to pout. I glance up at the clock at the top of my phone screen. "Oh shit!"

"What?" asks Elsa, startled.

"I have to get home! My roommates will be home in an hour and I told them I'd clean the apartment!"

I get up and race over to my shoes, trying to step into them without reaching down but failing and having to bend over anyway.

"Wait a minute," Elsa says. I open the door, about to bolt, but I feel a hand grab my wrist. "Anna, wait, I want to show you something."

"What?"

"Look," she says, holding up her own phone. The whole face is a clock, and it's counting up, about to reach six.

"Yeah, it's almost six, which means I have to go!" I say.

"No, wait. Just wait."

I stand and watch the clock with her impatiently. When it gets to 5:59, she begins counting down. And when it reaches six, she points at the ceiling, mouth wide in anticipation. Nothing happens.

I shake my head, not comprehending the point she is trying to make.

"Anna. It's six o'clock. On a Thursday."

And then I get it. "Oh my god. No thumping!"

Elsa smiles in a way that takes all the credit. I open my arms to her like a proud mother and she enters them. I expect her to be the first to let go, but after several moments of being enveloped in her warm arms I find I don't want either of us to ever let go. It isn't until Olaf skitters between our legs that we pull away from the embrace.

"I really do have to go," I say, breathless. "I'll text you tomorrow."

"All right," Elsa says, opening the door for me.

We look at each other for a tense moment. For a hopeful second I think she's going to finally do it, finally do what she wants. She's come so far. But then she gives me a quick "goodbye" and closes the door.

* * *

><p>When I enter Anna's hospital room, there is a nurse there writing on her chart.<p>

"How is she doing?" I ask, carefully making my way over to the end of her bed.

"She's stable," says the nurse kindly. "Her bruises are healing."

"That's good news," I say, taking a good look into Anna's face. The swelling does seem down, and the bruising is turning a nasty shade of yellow, which I take to mean that it's healing.

"I was just about to give her a bath," says the nurse, putting down the chart.

"Oh," I say, turning to at once to leave. "I'd better go then…"

"Do you want to do it?"

I stop with my fingers brushing the door handle. "What? Oh, no, I'd better- I don't know how and that's-"

"I can show you how. She only has bruising where you can see, there's nothing on her body, if that's what worries you."

"Oh, no, I shouldn't, it would be weird. I don't know if she'd want me to."

"She'd probably like it better if you did it. Loved ones often bathe patients."

I pause for a few seconds, thinking it through. I hear Anna's voice in my head: _What do you want to do, Elsa? _Then I think of the night that put us both in this hospital room and how my actions, my doing what I wanted, fucked both of us over.

"No, I really have to go. The- the time. But thank you."

I am thankful that she doesn't mention that I only arrived minutes ago.

* * *

><p>When I knock I try not to let any disappointment show on my face. So when the door opens, I stride in, chin up.<p>

"Where's Hans?" Elsa asks, confused. She looks out the open door, expecting to see my ex behind me but I know there is only air.

"I told him to go home," I say matter-of-factly, trying to hide any earlier hurt I feel.

"Why?" asks Kristoff from the couch. "What happened?"

"Oh, he just wasn't being a very good sport. He told me I was wasting my talent at P.S. 32, that it was below me. He said my apartment was too small, and then I took him to that Thai place you showed me for lunch and he didn't even pretend to like it. He was being a big wet blanket so I told him to change his flight and… he left."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Elsa says, giving me a look of commiseration. "I was looking forward to meeting him."

"You'll meet him someday- just not today…" I say, a bit grudgingly.

"Tonight, we'll make it up to you," says Kristoff, leaping athletically from the couch. "I, for one, am not going to let any kind of damp cloth ruin my big night at Marcell's."

"That is exactly the spirit I was hoping for," I say, beaming at him. He offers me an arm, and the other to Elsa, and the three of us exit the apartment in the formation of the Oz gang skipping off to the Emerald City.

* * *

><p>The next time I enter Anna's room, it is once more occupied. This time, Hans is sitting at her bedside, his hand holding hers. I don't want to interrupt but I also find myself incapable of leaving. I hover by the door, listening.<p>

"Everyone's missing you terribly," Hans is saying. I see that Anna is awake, but she isn't looking at Hans - her eyes are trained on the ceiling.

"Your old class back home wrote you a card, see?" He holds it up to her and she looks over. She reaches weakly for it and Hans places if in her grip. "There you, you've got it."

He smiles, watching her try and hold it up to read. "See how much everyone loves you? They're so excited that you're coming back. And it won't be long now, the doctor says we should be able to move you very soon. You're coming back home!"

He snuggles his face affectionately into the crook of her arm, making her drop the card. He picks it up and places it on her bedside table. "I know you came to New York for a change, but I think this whole ordeal will make you see that you belong back home."

He takes her hand again. "Don't you want to go home?"

I see then that there are tears leaking from Anna's eyes and I can't watch any longer. I step out of the room, knowing I have been too invasive by staying... but now I am resolved.

Now I know what I want. I know _exactly _what I want, and maybe how I can get it. But it won't be easy, it will take a fight. All the fight I have left.

I walk over to the nurse at her station. She greets me with some surprise.

"Will you show me how to do it now?" I ask bluntly. "Do you have time?"

She nods, still taken aback, but smiles anyway.

"I'm ready," I finally say.

* * *

><p>When we return to the apartment, Elsa collapses immediately onto the couch, but I'm jittery, excited, I need to do something… something thrilling, something dangerous.<p>

"I'm so stuffed it hurts," Elsa says, clutching her stomach. "I think we should take a break from Marcell's for a while. And… ow…. I don't think I can move from this spot. Should we watch a movie or something?"

She looks over and sees that I still have my coat on.

"Can we-" I start. "Can we- go out? I want to go out. Dance, maybe. I'm just too hyper. Can we go to a bar? Maybe… Velma's?"

Elsa visibly stiffens. "A gay bar?"

"Why not? I want to go out and dance. Will you go with me?"

"Looking like this?"

"We can change. Please? I'm not sure I can sit still."

"Well… all right. But we should definitely change."

"Can I borrow an outfit?"

"Come pick something out," she says, heading into the bedroom.

"What do lesbians wear?" I ask, bounding energetically after her.

"What?"

"We're going to a gay bar," I remind her.

She looks paler than usual. "Right."

* * *

><p>I push Anna carefully out of the bathroom, making sure her gown doesn't get caught in the wheels of the chair.<p>

"Okay, Anna," I say softly. "We're putting on your gown, okay?" Her eyes flick up to mine, then away again.

"Okay. This arm goes in here…" I gently take her right arm and slip it through the corresponding sleeve. "See? Easy peasy." I pat her limp hand and set it on the armrest. "You wanna try the next one?"

She nods, almost imperceptibly. I tug on the sleeve, holding it taut so it will be easier to enter. Anna lifts her left arm slowly, trembling. She misses the hole on the first try.

"It's okay, you've got this," I say, lightly guiding her hand to the hole. I let go, watching her struggle to thread it through the sleeve. When her fingers finally pop out of the other end, I grab hold of them and shake them gently.

"You've got this," I say, smiling up into her face. The corners of her mouth twitch in response. I fasten up the buttons on her gown.

Next, I grab her slippers and tenderly slip her feet into them, one by one.

"Let me know if they get hot, okay?" I say, then stand up. "What should we do next? I could take you for a walk around the hallways. What do you think?"

I crouch down next to the chair again, so that my head is bobbing just below hers. She's looking at me. "How does that sound, Anna?"

Her hand closest to my face twitches and she lifts it weakly from the armrest. I quickly take it in my own.

"Okay, ready to stand?" I rise and put my hands under her arms. "One, two, three…"

Together, we get her to her feet. She sways a bit, but I catch her, I make sure she doesn't fall.

"See, Anna?" I say, staring at her earnestly. "I can do this."

Her grip on my hand tightens slightly. "I can do this, Anna. Stay with me. Choose New York. Choose me."

She looks me right in the eye and smiles.

* * *

><p>"Well that's not really what I expected," I say as we leave Velma's. The night is colder than I anticipated and I hook my arm around Elsa's, drawing in close to her. "What now?"<p>

"Well, it's four A.M.," says Elsa, teeth chattering. "We can... just walk? Let's just walk."

I'm not tipsy from the beers, just tired. I lean into Elsa's side as we go, ignoring the occasional passing car, the distant sirens. All that matters is the night and the woman beside me. I wonder vaguely how this happened. How did this become the only thing I care about? More than home, more than my family, more than Hans. Maybe not more than my students, but close.

It's funny how philosophical a late night can make a person.

I revel in the closeness, in her scent, in the night. We duck down an alley, it's now so dark I can't see her face. We stop halfway down, and Elsa turns to me.

I open my mouth to say something, but then Elsa's mouth is covering mine. I inhale in surprise and she pulls away in alarm.

"Oh," I say.

"What?" she says, fear in her eyes.

"You… just did that," I say. "You really did that."

"Yeah, I did."

"Well… do it again."

And then we kiss. And kiss. And kiss…


End file.
